Tears Above His Heartbeat
by steepedinshadows419
Summary: Post 3x10 - Barry and Iris share a sad, tender moment after a long, sleepless night worrying about the future. Barry/Iris. Oneshot.


**A/N:** This is a fic request from one of my anons on tumblr. She requested it way back in December, but I didn't have time to get to it and then I realized it fit into the context of 3x10, so I decided to just make it a post-ep oneshot. Enjoy! :)

 ***** Many thanks, as always, to my lovely beta, **sendtherain** , for coming through for me once again.

 ***** I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

...

He lay still, wide awake, not having slept the entire night.

He turned to look at Iris lying beside him, facing the wall, her body rising and falling with each breath, but he was no more deceived than she would have been if it had been him. If he thought growing up down the hall from her made him know her ins and outs to the T, it was nothing in comparison to sleeping in the same bedroom together. That increased his knowledge of how she ticked, and not just on a sexual level.

She hadn't slept either.

That was the reason he hadn't slept.

Unlike when she'd insisted she didn't need to talk to him about her mom coming back, this time he paid attention to the telltale signs that she wanted to break down but didn't feel like she could. A lot had gone wrong in his life, but Iris had been through a lot too. And unlike him, she excelled at keeping it all bottled up from everyone.

He didn't want to push her. He didn't _want_ to make her cry. She had already cried. It had been a devastating blow. But the fact that she'd recovered within minutes and had yet to give in to how it made her feel since then made him uneasy.

"Iris…" he whispered, seeking a reaction.

Her body stilled momentarily, which confirmed his suspicions that she was awake. It resumed a beat later as if he hadn't interrupted her from pretending to sleep.

"Iris," he murmured, turning towards her and inching closer. He ran a hand down her bare arm that was suddenly covered in goosebumps. "Are you cold?" He nuzzled his nose against her back and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

He felt her shiver and laid his head back on the pillow, his heart breaking all over again. He stared at the long silk black locks before him and wish she'd turn to look at him.

Finally she did, and he couldn't decide what the expression was in her eyes. Numb? Tired? Pretending to tease or seduce or scold? Preparing to?

"Determined to wake me up, aren't you, babe?"

Her eyes didn't stay on him. They shifted. Just like they'd done last night before the party. Just as they continued to do all evening after everyone had left. The cuddles, the snuggles, the gentle kisses and tender love-making, all designed to put her at ease and hopefully open up to him once they were alone had done nothing. He could see their effect was even less potent now as the sun started to stream through their window.

"I would never." His eyes glinted gleefully, allowing himself to indulge in the memories of the many ways he'd woke her up in the past, but only for a moment. "To do that you'd have to actually be asleep first."

She sighed. He could see the struggle in her, whether to face him head on or insist he didn't know what he was talking about and turn back around to attempt sleep again.

"You know me too well, Barry Allen."

He attempted a half-hearted grin, but it faltered.

"Talk to me, Iris," he pleaded softly.

She closed her eyes, her entire body tensing. When she opened them, stubborn resolve simmered in the intensity of her deep brown eyes.

"I told you I'm fine," she said, trying to convince him.

"Maybe if you'd slept at all tonight, I'd believe you."

She frowned. "You didn't sleep, either."

"Because _you_ didn't," he defended, careful not to raise his voice.

She sighed again, frustrated. "Barry—"

"Okay, okay." He relented and pulled her close, tucking her into his warmth and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm sorry," he paused before trying a different tactic. "I don't want to fight."

"Me either."

He felt her snuggle into him and gradually relax. It put him at ease for only a moment before a tear he knew she wouldn't acknowledge hit the bare skin on his chest. The helplessness he felt concerning the future threatened to engulf him again.

Not more than ten minutes later, when he was almost certain she had fallen asleep, even though he was farther from sleep than he'd been before, Iris's phone started to go off. Not a call or an e-mail or a text or a notification. An alarm.

"Ignore it," he urged when she started to stir in his arms.

"Mmm, what?" came her groggy voice. Now he knew she _had_ been asleep.

"N-nothing, just go back to—" He tried to reach over her to silence her phone that still wouldn't shut off.

"Barry!"

He ended up crushing her too much into the bed so that she pushed him off of her, startled and suddenly wide awake. She sat up in bed and glared at him. His eyes widened and his face paled.

"What are you—"

And then the alarm sounded again. She looked over her shoulder and saw it dangling off the side of their bedside table. She gingerly retrieved it, scanned the screen and then turned off the alarm. Her eyes flickered to Barry for a second before she pulled the sheet off of her body and started to move around the room to find her clothes.

"Iris…"

"I have to get ready for work, Barry. You probably should too. You know, your day job."

"I called in."

She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him, propped up in bed with messy hair and sad eyes. She suddenly felt guilty for their recent altercation.

"When did you do that?"

"Well…I guess I didn't _technically_ call in."

"Barry…"

"But I told Julian last night that I wasn't coming. He understood."

Her brows furrowed and she crossed her arms under her breasts.

"How? He doesn't know about me being mur—" She stopped and cleared her throat. "About the future."

"No," he agreed, then tossed the remaining bed sheets off of his legs and came to stand in front of her. "But he's very excited about being a part of the team now. He was more than willing to make some allowances."

Her expression didn't change.

"Iris," he said soothingly, running his hands up and down her arms. "Call in. Stay home today."

Her lips parted and her eyes soften, but she still appeared unsure of what to say.

"I can't just _stop working_ just because—"

"I'm not asking you to," he assured her quickly. "Just today. I don't…I don't want to push you to talk about what you told me. If you don't think you need to talk, then we won't talk." Some of the tension eased out of her. "But…you don't have to put on a brave face with me, Iris. Take a day to just forget about it, to just…"

"What am I going to tell my editor?" She huffed suddenly, sending stray strands of hair flying about her forehead.

Barry shrugged. "Twenty-four hour flu?" He offered.

"Twenty-four hour flu," she repeated.

He pursed his lips and nodded, then went back to their bed, dragging her with him. He sat down and looked up at her, imploring her to stay.

"Please?" He ran his thumb gently over the back of her hand. "For me?"

He saw recognition flicker in her eyes of the time he'd only been the nameless Flash and she'd been the only girl he made time for. She sighed, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"For you."

Iris relented and came to sit next to him, letting him kiss her hands twice more before falling gently with him onto the bed.

When they were finally settled and both on the verge of sleep, Iris groaned.

"What?" Barry asked, flinching at the sound.

"I didn't call in," she whined.

"I did," he said, grappling for his phone on his side of the bed.

"When?" she asked, eyes still shut.

"Juuuuust now," he said, speed-texting Linda that Iris wouldn't be coming in today.

"Oh," she yawned, and Barry was relieved.

Moving them gently to the center of the bed and pulling the blankets up around them, Barry could finally let himself relax. He looked down at his sleeping angel and repeated the vow to himself that he would not let her die.

"I love you," he said, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

As if he'd pulled a trigger, more of Iris's tears started to spill onto his chest. She didn't move, didn't say a word, but her body shook slightly and her nails dug into his skin.

He held her a little tighter, not wanting to make a spectacle of her breakdown, since she'd been trying to avoid it earlier. But he repeated his oath because she needed reassurance and he needed to say it. Because he believed it with everything that he was and because he had to keep believing it until he could prove it was the truth.

"I'm not going to let it happen, Iris." He tightened his arms around her. "You're going to live."


End file.
